Aliens: Xenomorph Wars, chapter 1
by Hells Minion
Summary: What if there were an alien species stonger than the aliens?


Aliens: Xenomorph

Wars

written by Tim Kennedy

What if there were an alien species tougher than the

Aliens? And what if they were at war...

* * *

Chapter 1

The air in the corridor was hot

and moist. Out of the darkness, a black figure emerged. It was one of the

most horrifying killing machines man had ever know; it was the Xenomorph.

The outside of its body was as hard as any kind of armour that could be

found on Earth. Stealthy, the alien moved down the corridor. Xenomorphs

lived for stealth; it was their main advantage. Nothing gave an Xenomorph

more pleasure than to drop down on its prey, the whole time, the prey not

even knowing it was there.

However, this alien wasn't here

doing an routine job. Heck no. It has sensed something; something that

had spooked the Queen. An alien's first instinct is always to protect the

Queen. She was the lifeblood of the brood. She dies, and the aliens lose

all sense of command. They would sacrifice a hundred of drones if they

thought, even for a brief moment, that it might save their Queen.

The drone looked down the dark depths

of the corridor. _I must protect the Queen_. One step at a time, it

began its journey down the long metal hallway. It was about then, that

something caught the drone's eye. Actually, something went right _through_

the drone's eye. Sending the telepathic alarm to the rest of the pack,

another long arm picked the drone up right off the floor. _I must protect_

the Queen. I must protect the Queen. Then, another thought popped into

the drone's head. But this time, it wasn't the drone who thought of it.

It was almost as if it was forced into its mind. _Your Queen is mine_,

it said. _You are nothing._ In any case, that was the drone's last

thought before its head ripped clean off, splattering green acidic blood

all over the corridor. The strange creature slipped back into the darkness

it had originated from. Looks like today was a bad day to be a Xenomorph.

The Sun's rays was just coming over

the horizon, casting various shades of orange and yellow across the land.

From his bedroom window, Captain Robert Taylor watched every minute of

the sunrise, making sure he saw every ray that found its way over the distant

mountains. Even though it was the dead of winter and a white blanket covered

everything in sight, the sunrise seemed to bring a angelic light. Birds

and small creatures that usually weren't around in the snow were up and

about today. Yup, life was good.

Robert decided to go downstairs

and fix himself a nice cup of hot coffee. Putting on his robe, he found

his way out into the hallway and then down the stairs towards the kitchen.

When his bare feet touched the linoleum tiles, Robert jumped at the wave

of coldness that swept over his body. Quickly, he tip-toed across the floor,

and retrieved the canister of coffee beans that were on the counter. Suddenly,

he felt someone watching him. Spinning around, he found himself face to

face with his wife Emily.

"Morning sunshine," she said to

him as she wrapped her arms around him.

He kissed her in response. "Stephanie

still asleep?"

"Last time I checked." A smile came

over Emily's face. "Why do you ask?"

"Oh," Robert replied as he tugged

at the strings on her robe, "no reason."

In one quick swoop, Emily and Robert

were on the kitchen table locked in the heat of passion. Robert had his

tongue deep in her mouth when, to his surprise, she pushed him away.

"What's the matter, honey?" he asked,

curious as to what was going on.

"I don't know. I just don't feel

to good all of a sudden."

"Is it the flu? It seems to be going

around a lot. Couple of my friends back at the Academy just got sick."

She looked at him with a look of

dread. "No, it's not like that." She placed a hand over her chest. "It's

just my chest, it feels weird."

Did she say chest? Oh shit! Robert

knew what was coming, but it was too late. Emily's chest burst open sending

blood spraying all over the kitchen and Robert. From the cavity, a small

creature emerged, teeth barring down on Robert. No! Not those things again!

Robert tried to escape, but was frozen on the spot in terror. All he could

do was watch as the thing jumped at him and bit him in the neck. A stream

of blood covered Robert's face as his world turned red.

"Fuck!" Robert woke up screaming.

It was just a dream. He looked around his quarters, and at the black void

called space outside his window. He chuckled to himself. Just another fucking

dream.

In the vastness of Space,

an immense chunk of metal known as the Space Station _Orion_ made

itself known on the _Conistoga's_ scanners. Inside the bridge, the

two pilots, Lieutenant Lisa Morgan and Lieutenant Eric Mallory, checked

over the readings.

"Establishing approach vector,"

Morgan announced to her co-pilot.

Mallory reached over and flicked

on the comsystem and spoke. "Captain, we're approaching our primary destination."

It took a second, but Robert answered

back. "Affirmative, Mallory. Take us into docking bay six, then meet me

down here at the loading bay ASAP."

"Will do, Captain," Mallory responded.

Flicking off the comsys, he returned to doing his piloting duties. Looks

like this was shaping up to be another great day in the Corps.

Robert strode out into the docking

bay as his Marine squad formed up in front of him. God how he loved to

be commanding a marine squad. They weren't a heavy assault team by any

means, more like a standard security force. At any rate, they liked each

other, and they also knew what each of them was capable of. A handy situation

when something big came up, but that usually never happened to this squad.

Nope, this squad found itself flying around the galaxy doing the Corporation's

shit work. Oh well, could be worse.

"Alright marines," Robert yelled

out, " we all know what we're hear for. This station is going to be decommissioned

in three weeks. We're here to evacuate the remaining personnel before the

Corporate demolition squad gets here."

"Oh, yeah. This sounds like a doozy,"

one of the marines in front, Private Greg Howard, spoke out. Robert casually

found his way over to him.

"You find this funny, Private?"

"Uh...no, sir," Howard responded

with a lump in his throat.

"Good," Robert shouted at the rest

of them, "because I'm personally getting sick of all your bullshit! You're

Colonial Marines for Christ sakes! Act like them!"

That pretty much shut everyone up.

Robert didn't feel the least bit sorry for them. To him, they were all

a bunch of pussies. They wouldn't know how to defend themselves if a fly

came up and bit them on the ass. But that was Robert's goal, to break these

bastards in.

"Now," Robert said, getting back

to their agenda, "Private Howard and Private Morris, you two have the task

of meeting our contact in the staff lounge. If you two assholes aren't

back here in fifteen minutes..."

That was all he needed to say. Morris

and Howard ran off through one of the docking bay doors and took off down

the corridor.

"And that leaves the rest of us."

The _clunking_ of Morris' and

Howard's metal combat boots echoed down the long corridor. They were almost

at the staff lounge now, just a few metres ahead.

"I don't know what crawled up the

Captain's ass and died," Morris stated. Her long blonde hair swayed back

and forth as they walked down the corridor.

"He's just looking out for us, that's

all."

Morris looked down at her Motion

Tracker and came to a stop in front of a large metal door. "This is the

room."

As both of them approached, the

sensors automatically opened the doors, revealing the carnage on the inside.

"Holy shit," was all the Howard

could say. Inside the staff lounge, there were some remains on the floor

which should have been their contact. Their were several small holes in

the walls around the room. Howard stepped in and began to inspect them.

"Small arms fire," he stated. "What

the fuck happened in here?"

"You've got me. Looks like our contact

was hurt pretty bad."

The contact's body that was on the

floor was missing its lower body. From what was left of the upper torso,

it appeared something had exploded from the poor bastard's chest.

Morris and Howard glanced at each

other and spoke the same word in unison, "Xenomorphs!"

"I think we better radio back to

the Captain," Howard suggested.

"Good idea."

Morris and Howard were so intent

on radioing the Captain, they never noticed the shadow looming above them.

The alien drone looked down on them with its unblinking eyes, watching

their every move. Then the telepathic message came. _Kill them. Kill_

them all.

"Captain?" the voice shouted from

over the comsystem. It was Morris.

Robert responded into his shouldercom.

"You guys should've been back by now."

"I know, but Captain, we've got

a problem."

Here it comes, another lame ass

excuse. "What is it this time, Morris? The bogeyman?"

"Actually, its---" The voice suddenly

cut off. What came on next shocked everyone. There was no further conversation,

but instead, sounds of screaming and handgun fire.

Robert screamed into his shouldercom.

"Morris! Howard! What the fuck is going on? What the hell are you doing!"

"Captain!" Howard shouted back.

"It's Xenomorphs! Fucking Xenomorphs! Get the hell outta here while you

still can! Aaaahhh---"

The com went dead. Apparently, so

did Morris and Howard. Robert ripped off his shoudlercom and sent it smashing

into the metal canvas.

"Shit!" he yelled. The rest of the

marines stood there in total shock. Looks like it was shaping up to be

a bad day for the Marines also.


End file.
